


The Palisade Prince

by withoutwingsx



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Fantasy, Fictional Religion & Theology, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Rating May Change, Romance, VictUuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-09 13:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10413492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwingsx/pseuds/withoutwingsx
Summary: "...but the oldest, the greatest tale, is the one that has existed for centuries and has been passed from grandparent to grandchild for generations. Listen close, children are warned, as all tales are rooted in truth..."To be updated June 20th





	1. Prequel- The Tale of the Lost Prince

     Behind the Palace Garden, through the guards’ gatehouse and past the rows of trees and orchards, is a forest that eventually ends at the kingdom walls. The forest itself is small, merely a three hour stroll on foot from the edge of the stonewall to the edge of the apple orchard, but the trees are dense and the wildlife quiet. If one were to wander for half of an hour, one might happen upon a beautiful clearing with a crystal pool and bright blossoming lilies. Large stones litter the ponds edge, small flowers and vines creep between rocks untouched by treading feet and preserved through time. The clearing itself is surrounded by thick vines and thorns, wrapped around the trunks of the trees standing side by side, nearing touching but not quite, as if a line of soldiers were plowing forward. Yet the dark forest gives way to the brilliant sunlight that bounces off the pond and onto the waving grass and wildflowers drink in the light and reach toward the sky. 

     Only one tree stands, casting a shadow of shade over the small pond. The tree is split, two trunks instead of one, each stretching , reaching, almost as if in competition for the heavens with dancing branches the color of ale and small blossoms of white. 

     The forest itself is a quiet place though rampant are tales of a witch or a hag with a wooden house, faeries and fae lying in wait, talking snakes and laughing foxes, all still whispers through the minds of children, yet real human life is rarely seen venturing beyond the treeline. 

     But the oldest, the greatest tale, is the one that has existed for centuries and has been passed from grandparent to grandchild for generations. Listen close, children are warned, as all tales are rooted in truth.

 

     The kingdom of Yu-topia was young, only a mere two centuries old, when the war between the seven kingdoms began. Yu-topia was a small and peaceful kingdom, with under 1,000 inhabitants and a standing army of 150 volunteers. Known for their self-sufficiency, all crops were grown and shared, few went hungry and even fewer were ever sick or ill.  Their main export and the source of great pride was hand sewn silk.  Just and kind were the members of the royal family with a palace that purposefully lacked flamboyance and extravagance. The King and Queen were loved by all.  Their only heir to the throne was their first- born daughter who was set to marry a prince from another small kingdom, and the second child was a quiet boy adored by the villagers and loved by the guards. 

      Graceful and quiet, kind and selfless, the boy prince spent most days playing with the town's children or helping the farmers to collect their crops or wash their laundry.  Provided much freedom by his family,  he was youthfully and blissfully oblivious to royal obligations as he was the second child. And the kingdom, at the time, was small and wielded little worldly power or influence. The prince, Yuuri, was also know for his beautiful but rare gift. Having been trained in ballet at the tender age of seven by a prima ballerina from kingdoms away, his natural and abundant talent readily blossomed as if a flower receiving its first measure of the brilliant sun of spring. As Yuuri spent hours hidden away honing his graceful craft, the only glimpses of the boy were that of his bandaged feet and flowing silk scarves. If fact, if Yuuri was not to be found, worries were naught, as he was known to run off for hours to dance, occasionally performing in the garden for his sister or parents. 

     It was the year of his sixteenth when the kingdoms had begun to fight amongst themselves. None in Yu-topia were worried, however, as it was both neutral and weapons free, and made no contributions to the fight.  However, when a messenger was sent from their southern neighbor demanding they choose a side, the kingdom was unwillingly forced into the conflict.  They were either to join the current victor, whose next conquer was to be the large kingdom to the north of Yu-topia, or risk being pillaged and captured as well. The King and Queen spent hours with the small council before sending reply. They could not, in good conscious, join the fight.  They were met with response days later indicating the kingdom and its citizens would be given no mercy along the campaign.

     Yuuri was distraught, and as he often responded when he felt the pressure of life begin to  weigh on his shoulders, he expressed his worry and grief with ballet. His secret sanctuary was an empty clearing of sunlight and a small crystal clear lake. It was there, before donning his leather ballet slippers, he fell to his knees and prayed to the gods above to spare his kingdom and his people.  He would pay any price to see his family and his kingdom, safe. Yet Yuuri knew naught what he could do.  Yurri danced until he merged with the cool breeze and warm sunlight - until his body was no longer separate from the land, the grass, or the air. He danced for hours until a flutter of black distracted him, and he turned, and was quite surprised to see a hunched hag staring at him from beneath a large burlap coat. 

     “Hello?” He said guardedly and the hag smiled a crooked and broken smile.

     “The prince, yes?” She asked, and Yuuri nodded. The crooked figure gestured him over, where he cautiously stood in front of her small twisted form. “I have a message for you, boy.” Yuuri’s head tilted slightly in confusion at her words. 

     “For me?” He asked and she nodded.

     “Yes, but first, will you grace me with a dance? I have heard tales of your grace and beauty.” Yuuri felt a blush dust across his cheeks and his wariness began to dissipate slightly. 

     “A dance?”

     “Yes.” The hag grinned the crooked smile again. “Any dance you desire, my grace.”

     “I suppose,” Yuuri hesitantly nodded and bowed deep before rising to his toes and spinning through the clearing, the grass barely touching the pads of his feet as he danced almost upon the air. One graceful movement seamlessly blended to the next without any need for thought.  He jumped into the air, performing a changement, with the heels of his pointed feet barely brushing past each other before landing and rolling into plie. His arms obediently followed the path of his feet, stretching back, molding his body into a beautiful arch. He used the treeline to steady him as he twisted and turned, his body needing no instruction. Pas de bourre, a foot behind the other, Yuuri rose onto his toes, taking two steps forward, rolling through the plie with arms extended in fifth- no pause for breath, no pause for thought. Two quick steps for speed and momentum and performing a pas de chat then a quick pirouette, he pushed the grass flat beneath the leather of his shoes. His breathtaking finale concluded the spectacle with a double turn, his arms stretching forward and his body following, ending in arabesque with a leg raised behind him and his hands reaching towards the heavens as if in a silent plea.

     “Yuuri.” The hag said. The prince turned his head slightly while holding his position, his foot in pointe and his heart racing in his chest. It was as if he was frozen in place.  She continued, “The gods have sent this message. As long as you hold this form, this plea to the heavens, the walls of your kingdom will not fall. No army, no stones, no force of nature will cause the walls to crumble as  long as you hold your arms lifted to the heavens and your leg high in prayer. This spell is a gift from the gods, who are moved by your dance and your selfless love for your kingdom.”

     Yuuri looked at the hag, eyes wide and hands shaking. “I forever cannot move?” He asked fearfully and she nodded.

     “If you are to fall, to break position or to move back onto the earth with both feet, the spell will be broken.” Yuuri felt the fear creep down through his limbs. What were the gods to gain, knowing he would eventually succumb to human weakness? Yet he would try, for the sake of his family and kingdom, so he nodded, regardless of the impossibility of his assigned task. 

     “I will try.” He said and closed his eyes, mustering the willpower by imagining the faces of his family, his friends and his people.

     Hours passed and his legs began to grow weary and exhausted, his arms began to shake and he began to sway slightly with the effort. The hag remained fixated, gazing intently as Yuuri struggled to stay upright. Finally the Hag stated, “Even if you cannot sustain, there is no guarantee that the walls will fail. Perhaps they will hold, regardless of magic.”

     Yuuri shook his head and focused on holding his body taut. “The walls are old and the army coming is large. The gods have offered me a gift and until I die from exhaustion I will stand here for my kingdom.” The hag merely nodded and continued to regard his plight.  Night passed and the sun rose again, yet Yuuri still stood tall, sweat dripping down his back and legs and his whole body feeling as if it was a smoldering coal, every nerve ending on fire yet still poised. The hag continued to watch, seemingly with fascination, as Yuuri struggled through the burning pain that was consuming every part of him from his neck down to the soles of his feet.

     It was not until the sun rose high into the sky and the afternoon heat had begun that the hag spoke again. 

     “Shall we continue to ignore the impossibility of your task? Your family is likely worried and searching for their beloved prince. No one would blame you if you were to fall.”

     Yuuri clenched his jaw and shook his head. “If I could endure it, I would stay like this forever.” He said in reply, his breath haggard.  The sun set again yet Yuuri somehow persevered, one shaking leg stretched behind him, his foot still in pointe, and the other leg still ramrod straight. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he feared a strong breeze would snap his bones like sticks and send him careening to the ground below. His breath was quick and fleeting in his chest, and his heart was pounding louder than the crickets chirping in the dark forest.  The hag was still waiting, watching. Yuuri had no idea if it was in support, or if she was merely waiting for his inevitable collapse, that drew nearer with every passing minute. Desperately searching for a distraction, his eyes flitted to anything and everything that would offer a sweet relief from the all consuming pain.  It was before sunrise on the second day that his supporting leg began to cramp and shake to the point where he started to sway, and Yuuri began to pray under his breath, begging the gods for the strength to persist so he may continue to protect his family and his kingdom. He vocalized his fear, his pain, his torment as his vital pleas raised into the air and dissipated. 

     The sun was almost over the horizon when the hag rose to her feet and hobbled over to where Yuuri stood, shaking and quivering, a clammy sweating mess, his fists clenched and crescent cuts where his nails had bitten the skin in determination.  “I will offer once more,” the hag said. “Acquiesce and you will not be held accountable.   You will not be blamed if the walls fall and if your kingdom is taken.”

     Yuuri shook his head, his voice raspy from the pain and his prayers. “I would rather die trying to protect my kingdom then to always know I could have done more to save them.”

     The hag nodded and then a blinding light radiated out, standing in her place was a beautiful woman with long brown hair and robes of white silk. Her breast was adorned with the golden jewelry of the gods and goddesses, and a circuit of crystallized flowers rested on the crown of her head.

     “Yuuri Katsuki, princeling.” She said gently, her voice a melody of wind chimes and natures song. “I take mercy on you, as you have moved me with your selfless loyalty and love for your people. So I will grant your wish, you will eternally dance, and as long as you stand, your kingdom will be safe for generations to come.”  With that, Yuuri felt a warmth, unlike anything he had experienced before, radiate through his weary bones and muscles. Filled with overwhelming light, he felt his body rise and straighten with joy and pride until he felt no more.  The goddess reached out and affectionately ran a hand over the rough bark of the beautiful tree that now stood before her. She turned and exited the sunlit clearing as a line of trees and thorns rose up behind her- a sentry standing guard until almost three centuries later when once again human feet would venture into the glade, previously untouched and unchanged by time.

 


	2. Chapter 2- Introducing the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spell is broken, but of this spell, do any know?

Long flowing tresses of silver hair glinted in the sunlight before the silent dark forest hid the figure from view. At a loud cry of “Viktor!” the forest seemed to come alive with the sound of crows taking flight into the air and animals disturbed from their slumber. The figure didn’t slow at the call, merely continued to dart through the underbrush, weaving around the looming trees and almost dancing through the wild grasses and vines. The voices and sounds bounced through the shadowed tangle of greenery before dissipating into the once more calm forest.

Viktor slowed, jumping from root to root before glancing around, a smile on his thin lips as no other humans were to be seen or heard.

The forest was eerie to most, but to the lithe young man it was like a maze with a million paths. All would end and begin the same, but the in between was always changing. He could navigate the forest in his sleep, with only the sky above and the sounds of nature to guide him.

It had always been that way, growing up he would often find escape within the dark trees, and since his acquisition of the throne he found with less and less time to evade his busy life and duties, sometimes freedom was not just desired but required.

As had happened with today, a game of sorts for the overworked king. A game of chase, which had promptly ended for all parties involved when he had made it to the outskirts of the forest. His guards and counselors knew better than most that the minute Victor reached the woods the game would be lost, as when he disappeared into the thick greenery, the only way he would be found is if he wished to be.

And he did not wish to be found, especially not at the moment, rather he wished to find a nice tree to rest against and stare at the sky in contemplation. Viktor would not consider himself a pessimistic person, nor one prone to worry, but he was feeling the stress is massive amounts currently, and that was due to the kingdom's current situation.

Since the unsteady alliances that had ended the seven kingdoms war less than 200 years prior, there had been small issues that had rose every now and again, as he be expected. But it seemed as of late it was more of constant conflict that of an “alliance”.

And Yu-La had, over the years, flourished into an extremely valuable center for goods and service export and import. His kingdom was critical to the success of the neighboring kingdoms, due to the location and access. 

Usually conflict was a rarity, but again rumors of an uprising and opposing alliances had reached the ears of his counsel, and they were urging Viktor to consider choosing a side if war was to result.

Yu-La, previously Yu-Topia before it was merged with an East Slavic royal family, was said to be blessed by the gods. The walls were said to be spelled to stand strong under attack, and the kingdom itself was said to be watched over by a Goddess. Victor had heard this myth, as had most of the population, but the exact tale had been mostly lost to time.

Yes, he had heard of the supposed tales that all said the same thing, Yu-La could not fall. Now believing them was another matter completely.

He was no fool, the walls may have held during the seven kingdoms war, and they may have been updated and strengthened within the last century, but Viktor had seen some of the new weapons created and he found himself to be a rational King. 

If it was to come to conflict, Viktor would need to be on the right side or risk his kingdom falling, and his throne taken. He knew the leader of the self proclaimed “alliance” that was starting the feuds, “Jean-Jacques”, the new husband of one of the oldest royal families and largest kingdoms, Le Roi. He was the one who had planted the seed of dissatisfaction in the mind of his new wife and Queen, and his parliament had subsequently sided with him on his cry for war.

Viktor would prefer to prevent conflict over all else, but he was not sure if Jean-Jacques would be successful. He would rather side with the older kingdoms that refused to give in to the demands of the newcomer.

Yet if he was wrong, he risked his kingdom, and a huge risk that was.

Victor let out a sigh into the slightly cool air and dragged his fingers across the trees to his side. The trees were dense in this area, almost touching, and vines wrapped from trunk to trunk, creating a wall of dark green. Victor followed the dense underbrush until a small break in the line of trees met his attention, and he ducked through the opening, under a few low hanging branches and stepping over a few twisting vines until the afternoon sun met his eyes and he was standing in a bright clearing.

A beautiful glade met his eyes, a small pond littered with water lilies and smooth pond-stones, and waving green grass that looked soft to the touch. Wildflowers littered the clearing, and a tall split tree sat near the water's edge. The Trunk rose from the ground before splitting into two trunks, one hanging over the water almost horizontal to the pond, and the other more angled reaching into the sky. The bark was the color of warm ale, and the leaves were a soft green with small white blossoms brightly adorning the branches in clumps and bunches. Some of the lower branches danced across the waters surface, and a small breeze caused the tree to quiver and almost seem to sway as if waltzing to a private song. 

Victor closed his eyes and let the sunlight warm his face and bare arms before walking under the tree and taking sanctuary in the shade leaning against the sun-warmed bark and closing his eyes gently. He let the trunk of the large tree support his back and he stretched his legs out onto the soft grass carpet, letting the breeze rustle his hair and gently caress his skin. 

He couldn’t help the fatigue that overcame him, and he closed his eyes for a minute, sinking into a warm light beneath his eyelids and still feeling the grass underneath him tickling his skin.

When his eyes fluttered open the sun was lower in the sky, almost embracing the horizon. He was also no longer leaning against the tree, but rather lying in the grass with something warm pressed against him. He sat up and stretched his arms towards the copper sunset sky, before turning to find the absence of the tree that had previously stood, and in its place, a man with a head of inky black hair and olive skin, wearing loose cotton trousers, a tunic and leather straps on his feet of which he had never seen. 

As Victor’s eyes raked over the figure, the man rolled over to face him, long black lashes fluttering as warm brown eyes slowly met Viktors own. The man blinked, and Viktor felt as though he was sinking into the liquid pools of amber that looking back at him, with the warmth from the sunset, it was like looking into a small marble world of sepia. 

It was not just the large almond eyes that drew his attention, but the man, no, the boy himself looked unlike anyone Viktor had seen before. A young face that rounded gently before sloping to a soft point, his nose had a low bridge with a slightly upward point, his cheeks were soft yet the bones were sharp and gracefully defined, his lips were delicately arched and full. 

The only word that came to mind was exotic. Victor opened his mouth to speak, and then thought better of it and snapped it closed. The boy continued to stare at Viktor, his brow slightly furrowed, and teeth beginning to gently bite into his lower lip. 

“Hello?” The boy was the first to speak, and he also seemed confused. Viktor took slight relief in this fact. “Do I- do I know you?” His voice was accented with an unfamiliar sound, his voice soft and words rounded. 

Viktor shook his head. “No,” at risk of sounding insane he continued, “In fact, I fell asleep in the shade of a tree, and now you’re here, and there is no tree to be found.”

The boy looked around from where he sat on the grass, and looked at Victor, confused. “A tree?” He asked and Viktor nodded. “I know this clearing,” the boy continued, “I do not remember a tree.”

Viktor paused. “I promise you, there was one. Tall, with a split trunk, and small white blossoms.” The boy’s gaze spoke volumes of distrust and confusion. Viktor sighed and paused, thinking, trying to find anything to substantiate his story. He looked around before an idea popped into his mind.

Viktor walked to the water's edge and skimmed his hand along the surface of the water, returning to where the boy sat, and held out his palm. In it rested two dark green leaves and a few small white blossoms. The boy's eyes widened and he gently pulled a flower from Victor's hands, examining the blossom. “This is a white cherry blossom, from a Sakura tree.” The boy still looked confused. “They don’t grow here.”

Victor looked down at the flowers in his palm. “Where do they grow?” He asked and the boy blinked. 

“The eastern countries sometimes will bring preserved blossoms to be sewn into the silks for decoration.” The boy looked at the flower again and ran his fingers over the petals. “But this, this is not dried nor preserved.”

Viktor sighed exasperatedly. “Yes, it may sound insane but I promise that there was a tree standing, where you are currently, less than perhaps an hour ago.”

The boy pursed his lips thoughtfully and let the flower drift from his palm to the ground, taking another look around. “I know this clearing.” He said aloud. “This is my secret spot, but it looks different.” 

Viktor paused. “You’ve been here before?” He asked and the boy nodded. “Do you frequent the forest?”

“Oh yes,” the boy looked up at Viktor, “I usually come here to escape the palace when I require solitude.”

“You live in the palace?” Viktor asked carefully, scrutinizing the boy below him. Viktor was sure he would have known if he had seen the exotic form before. 

“Yes,” the boy answered. “Do you not recognize me?” Viktor shook his head. “Oh.” The boy looked almost relieved. “It’s not often someone doesn’t recognize the prince.”

Viktor suppressed a sudden cough. “Um, pardon?” He asked.

“I am Prince Katsuki Yuuri.” The name was not familiar at all to Viktor.   
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.” Victor crossed his arms over his chest. “As it happens, I’m currently King.”

The boy chortled at this. “Oh really?” He asked, big brown eyes narrowing slightly as he looked up at Viktor.

“Yes. Viktor Nikiforov.” The boy sighed and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes further.

“Your name is not familiar to me.” 

“I promise you, I am the ruling king.” Viktor had no idea how to approach this situation as he currently was more dumbfounded than confused. 

The boy, Katsuki Yuuri, made to stand, but his legs quivered and Viktor quickly grabbed his arm to stabilize him as his legs wobbled. “Thanks,” the boy huffed and leaned on the offered arm. “My body currently aches, but I cannot seem to remember why.” 

Viktor stayed silent as the boy leaned on him, before stretching out a leg hesitantly and standing straight without help.  “So, King Viktor,” The boy sounded almost mocking, “what now?”

“I suppose we should head to the palace, if this indeed is no dream.” The boy snickered softly.

“If so, it is an odd dream that we are both sharing.”

Viktor suppressed a sigh and held out an elbow, the boy staring at the offending appendage before grudgingly taking it. Whatever this Katsuki Yuuri expected to find when they arrived at the palace, Viktor was sure he would be sorely disappointed. The walked through the underbrush, Viktor noticed this boy needed no leading, he seemed to know the forest well, automatically heading the way that would take them back to civilization. 

The treeline ended and the orchards came into view, Viktor taking a second to lean against one of the trees and rest for a second. The forest was darkening as the sun set, and he had found himself victim to more than one hidden obstacle waiting to trip him up.

The boy stared at the orchards with an indistinct look on his face. 

The trees were green and full of life, but the air was growing colder, and soon the leaves would begin to turn the color of fire and fall to the ground. Autumn was almost upon the kingdom, Viktor having to pull some of the lighter coats out of the back of his wardrobe to ward against the chill.

“This isn’t right.” Katsuki Yuuri spoke, and Viktor turned to look at him.

“Pardon?”

“This,” he gestured at the large orchard, “I don’t recognize these trees.”

Viktor walked into the orchard, the boy following at his heels. “Pear trees,” Viktor pointed to the skinny trees, light green branches with barely any blossoms remaining. “A gift from a foreign embassy less than 40 years ago.” Viktor continued on through the organized rows. “Apple trees, these have stood for over a century.” The large reddish greenery towered over the two figures. 

“Banana trees,” The low hanging fronds were already beginning to darken and fall, easy victims of the cold. “They only produce fruit for one season of the year, a gift brought from the north sea.”

The terrain began to become slightly rough as the trees coming into view visibly showed their older age. “These are the original blueberry bushes,” Viktor started but was interrupted.

“They’re huge,” the boy exclaimed and looked almost shell-shocked.

“Yes, they are over three centuries old,” Viktor mused. “Almost the oldest in the orchard besides the large oaks.”

Katsuki Yuuri gripped Viktor's arm, and Viktor, startled, turn to face him. “These were just new,” he said and Viktor blinked. 

“I don’t understand?” 

“Neither do I,” was the cryptic response, and he released Viktor’s arm. 

The boy was unusually quiet as they made their way to the palace gardens, and as they walked through the stone laid paths surrounded on both sides by exotic vivid flowers and trees, his eyes grew wider with each stp.

As the palace came into view, Viktor quickened his step, as the sun sunk lower and with it the air was beginning to feel biting and and cold. He also knew he had been expected back much earlier, and he was sure that Yakov and Otabek would be peeved if not worried with his tardiness. Viktor glanced at the stranger following him, the boy's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the palace growing closer with each step .

As they approached the wide doors leading into one of the many hallways, Viktor stopped abruptly and turned to face the boy. “So, prince, aren’t you going to lead me into your palace?” he said somewhat mockingly but immediately felt guilt at the empty expression in the large amber eyes. 

“You were right.” The boy said softly, almost sadly, and looked at his feet. “This is not my palace, perhaps it once was, but no longer.”

Viktor frowned. “I don’t understand?”

The boy’s large and slightly glistening eyes met his. “Nor do I-” was the soft reply, and he opened his mouth as if to continue but the loud sound of the doors being flung open distracted them both. A small blonde figure stood in the passageway, with small petite wrists haughtily placed on hips, and a large silent figure could be seen standing off to the side.

Viktor’s lips widened into a grin. “Cousin!” He exclaimed and the petite blonde huffed.    
“You’re in trouble,” he said before turning and gesturing towards the large and quiet man. “Come Otabek.” Viktor amusedly made eye contact with his captain of the guard, noticing the fond look in the man's eyes before he turned, following the smaller figure down the hall. 

Viktor slowly made to creep into the castle but he was stopped by a loud cry of “Viktor’s returned,” and then the following familiar stomping that was coming towards where he stood.

Just as expected, Yavok turned a corner to level a glare at Viktor barely glancing quickly to the quiet boy standing off to his side. 

“Vitya!” Yakov huffed and angrily marched over, grabbing Viktor by a sleeve and angrily pulling him into the castle. “First you run off, which I can deal with, but then you return much later than you know is appropriate.” Yakov paused and faced the boy who stood slightly behind Viktor.

“Who is this.” He demanded and Viktor paused. 

“He said he was the prince.” He stated and Yakov frowned. 

“Prince?” He asked. “Of where?”

“Of here-” Viktor responded but before he could continue he was cut off. 

“I believe I was mistaken.” Yuuri stated over Viktor, and Yakov glanced from Viktor to the boy, back to Viktor.

“Obviously.” He said dismissively, and Viktor tried to not feel guilty as the boys face fell. 

Viktor noticed a few servants peeking around the corner to see what the commotion was about, and he sighed. “Yakov, please find-” He paused, trying to recall the boy's name, “-Yuuri a chamber while I change.” He looked down at his dirty clothes in disdain. “Then have supper brought to us while we talk.” He was hungry and dirty, currently in no state to deal with his odd stray that was confusing but curious.

Yakov grumbled but gestured at the boy to follow. The boy paused and looked semi-desperately at Vicktor. “Really I think I should leave-” Viktor was starting to get a slight headache, and he sighed.

“That wasn’t an offer.” He said and started walking towards the stairs that would lead to his large private chambers. “That was a command. I will be up in a bit, please make yourself comfortable. Feel free to bathe, Yakov will bring you some clothing.” With that Viktor disappeared up the grand staircase, hot water and clean clothing the only thing on his mind. 

Yuuri was sitting stiffly on the bed, changed into soft white cotton garments (that looked suspiciously like they were pilfered from Yuris closet) when Viktor walked into the large chamber, now dressed in fresh garments and starving. 

He rose to his feet when he saw Viktor, but Viktor made his way over to the chair near the bed and sat. “Sit.” Viktor gestured and the boy sat, folding his hands stiffly in his laps and wringing them together nervously. Now, clean and dressed in the gentle and flowing white garments, Viktor couldn’t help the quickening of his heart and the feeling that erupted in his stomach.

He was beautiful, pure, his eyes large and framed beautifully with dark lashes, and even with the worry furrowing his brows and pursing his lips, he looked more exotic, more interesting than anyone Viktor had seen before. Viktor was truly curious, his interest was piqued. 

“So, Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor began and the boy interrupted.

“Yuuri is fine.” He said and Viktor smiled reassuringly. 

“Alright, Yuuri, so I’m a little confused.” Viktor said honestly and Yuuri let out a short laugh.

“Obviously,” he said, and looked at his hands. “I am honestly confused as well.” 

Viktor sighed. “So I guess the best thing to ask is-”

He was interrupted by the sound of a light knock on the door. “Come in,” Viktor called, and a thin boy with inky hair and a dark chestnut complexion rolled a small cart into the room.    
“Ah perfect!” Viktor exclaimed. “I had some food from the kitchens brought up. I didn’t know what you liked Yuuri so I just had them bring up some simple meats and fruits.”

The servant kept his eyes on the floor, but at Yuuri’s soft “thank you,” his eyes rose to focus on the small boy, his eyes widening.

Viktor was more than confused when the small serving boy flung himself to the ground beneath Yuuri’s feet, Yuuri jumping up from where he sat in shock. “Prince Yuuri!” The boy exclaimed, his head still lowered in a bow, his knees folded below him. 

“Er,” was Yuuri’s eloquent response. 

“I knew it was you,” the boy grasped one of Yuuri’s dangling hands in his own dark ones and looked up at the boy. “The minute we heard there was a boy claiming to be a prince, the minute I heard your name I was sure. But now, seeing your face, I am certain.”

“Do I know you?” Yuuri asked softly and the boy dramatically shook his head. 

“No no! But I know of you, the missing prince.”

“-the missing prince?” Viktor interrupted and the boy nodded from where he was still sitting on the floor. 

“Yes! My grandfather and father passed the tale to my sister and I, and I have seen the paintings in the old ancestory hall behind the library. This is Yuuri Katsuuki, second child of the Katsukis, rulers of Yu-Topia almost 300 years ago. But he is know to my family and those who have descended from the villagers of Yu-Topia as the Lost Prince, and the savior of this kingdom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! Three more chapters to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this prequel of sorts. You can find me on Tumblr as withoutwingsx and on twitter as withoutwingsxxx but don't expect any actual content. Viktor will be introduced in Chapter 2. Thanks!


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